


Plans

by bestliars



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestliars/pseuds/bestliars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(my plan, unedited from initial chatfic): Sid is all serious and sad and HOCKEY why are we losing to the flyers this is just the worst. the WORST! and then Kris is like, why is my captain so sad? Sid shouldn't be sad! He's nice and good at hockey and cute and stuff he shouldn't be sad. I should fix this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plans

Sid is not ok. Like, really not ok. Which isn’t that surprising, because they’re losing a series against the Flyers, and losing is not good, especially if you’re Sid and you don’t think about things that aren’t Hockey.

Kris is not ok with Sid not being ok. Sid is his friend and his captain. He’s back playing the game he loves, and deserves better than losing to the Flyers. The first two games just suck, but in ways that almost make sense. Almost. First game, offside, overtime, that actually happened, whatever, it’s just the first game. Second: 8-5. That’s just terrible, frustrating, but whatever, it’s only the second game. Then the third game...well, just fuck.

They’re down 3-1 twelve minutes in and then Sid starts fighting, then Kris starts fighting. He gets a game misconduct and is off the ice in the third, but it’s clearly a mess. They lose 8-4. It is an epic disaster. Sid is pissed, and can’t hide from the press behind his nice Canadian robot schtick, which is really unfortunate, only making things worse.

They don’t even get yelled at afterwards. Everyone already feels horrible; a scolding isn’t going to change what happened, and attempts at encouragement or inspiration would be...not appreciated. The basic sentiment is that they’re so much better than this, that they’re expected to be better to this, and they better start playing fucking better than this.

Kris agrees. They all do. Easier said than done.

Sid fails at making a speech. He stands up, opens his mouth, and sits back down. It’s totally spectacular. Kris has to turn to Flower and ask, “Did that just happen?” It did. The whole week has been pretty unbelievable, but it’s all real, and he’s close to fighting back hysterics. His life is getting progressively more surreal.

 

Everyone is a wreck on the plane home. It is majorly not fun. He’s sitting next to Sid, and the storm cloud over his friend is inescapable, and pretty painful to be near. They spend the whole time with their headphones on, being miserable and silent. It fucking sucks.

It is all just wrong. All of it. It sucks for the team and it sucks for him, but it sucks for Sid so much, and this unfairness is getting on Kris’s last nerve. He wants to make things better. He can’t fix this, because he can’t travel through time and change how the games went, but maybe somehow he could do something to make the situation better for Sid, or maybe distract him from how much things suck. That would make Kris feel better too.

He needs a plan. He needs a really awesome plan. But they’re only going to be on the plane for a little over an hour, so he doesn’t even have enough time to make a mediocre plan. Maybe things will be better at practice tomorrow. For now he can wait and see.

They land and go their separate ways. Sid is living with Mario again; hopefully his mentor will have some words of wisdom to quiet Sid’s internal weather. If not, well, being home will do everyone some good. Days like this, Kris loves his own bed more than anything. They’ll all get good night’s sleep, and things will be better in the morning.

Things are not better in the morning. Practice isn’t terrible, but things still aren’t right. There aren’t any Flyers at least, so no one gets in a fight. They’re frustrated, and feeding off of that emotion which is making everything worse.

Sid is quiet, and playing well, but all caught up in his head, thinking of nothing but Hockey. That can’t end well. Kris still doesn’t really have a plan, but he’s starting to get an idea. It starts with cornering Sid on the way out, standing right in his space, unavoidable, and saying, “We’re hanging out tomorrow.”

It isn’t a question, and Sid must hear that because he just sighs and asks when.

They can totally make plans like regular people, and Sid’s going to come over tomorrow afternoon, and that is totally enough time for Kris to make a plan for things to suck less. He’ll get some beer. Beer will make things suck less, at least marginally. This is totally an acceptable plan that will work.

Except it totally isn’t, and does not. Because this is Sid, and they have a playoff game tomorrow, and Sid is their responsible Captain, so he isn’t drinking. And Kris isn’t a moron, so it’s not like he thought they should get wasted, but he was hoping Sid would mellow out a little bit. But they’re just sitting around playing video games and being spectacularly awkward. Neither of them are that great at video games normally, but with the atmosphere of defeat and awkwardness hanging over them, they are just horrible. Kris doesn’t really care, video games are just a tool in Operation Make Sid Unwind, but generally Sid’s more competitive than this. This apathy seems to be a symptom of being too busy thinking about Hockey to do anything else, which means that Kris’s plan wasn’t working at all. 

Kris is too caught up thinking about how this isn’t working, so preoccupied by this problem that his brain-to-mouth filter malfunction, and he actually says, “This isn’t working.”

Sid says “What isn’t working?” and Kris babbles out “...My hair?” trying to redirect the conversation, even though he knows it won’t work because Sid has on the serious Captain face he uses to solve problems. So they’re going to talk about this. Which hey, maybe, isn’t the worst thing ever?

While Kris is doing all of this processing Sid is saying, “What? No, your hair works fine. Well, it’s a bit ridiculous, but it functions, and I think that’s intentional, and it works for you. It’s your hair."

Kris thinks this was supposed to be a compliment. He can hardly believe that they’re having this conversation. He doesn’t exactly know what this conversation is, but it’s with Sid, and it’s about feelings, and clearly his life is just bizarre. He’s so preoccupied by the unreality of the situation that when Sid asks “What isn’t working?” again, he actually answers.

“You aren’t relaxing,” Kris says. “I think that you maybe need to not think about Hockey, and like, think only about things that aren’t Hockey, for a little bit. I think it would be good. For everything.”

“I should stop thinking about hockey?” Sid seems to be just as obsessed with hockey as Kris thought. Kris would read his expression as confusion tinged with sadness.

“Yeah, you know, there’s more to life than just hockey.” Kris knows it’s kind of a lie, at least for people like Sid, and kind of for him. “Like, uh. Beer and video games. I guess.”

“You invited me over to drink beer and play video games so I would stop thinking about hockey?”

“I guess? It’s a kind of a crap plan. I was working on a deadline.”

“It’s a plan? This is an actual thing you thought about? You thought about making me not think about hockey for the good of...everything?”

“...Yes.” Kris wishes he was a better liar.

Sid looks stricken. “I think that you need to explain your logic. Is there logic? It sounds like there is logic involved. Terrifying logic.”

“I think there was logic?” Kris says, considering how much of his thought process he should reveal. “Good logic. I know this series hasn’t been going good, which sucks, and it made you look so unhappy, and I guess I didn’t like that, so...”

“So?”

“So I thought that if you stopped obsessing over things, and, like, took deep breaths for a while, things would be better. Only apparently I’m not very good at making you relax, or it’s harder than I thought it would be, or something.”

Kris honestly has no idea what Sid will think about this because Sid’s brain does not work like a normal person’s, and also he has very few facial expressions. He thinks that Sid might be coming around to the possibility that it isn’t actually the worst idea in the world, but it also could be Sid repressing so this never happened, which might be good, erasing all the awkwardness, but it also wouldn’t fix anything. All of this uncertainty is making him feel ill, so clearly the right thing to do is keep on talking, hoping that there’s some way to explain things.

“I’m not trying to fix you. I know how much this means to you, I think I understand. I mean, maybe not quite, but close. It’s Hockey. It’s important. I get that.”

“I know you do,” Sid says. “I know you understand why I worry, which makes me wonder...”

Kris interrupts him, “I get it. Hockey, Important, I get it. It’s just that, like, you’re important too? And sometimes I’m not sure if you realise that. That even when we’re playing terribly you’re still awesome and nice and cute and everything,” and wait, he didn’t exactly mean to say that, but whatever, he has to keep going and bet on Sid’s tendency towards obliviousness. “I guess I just need you to know that even if we’re all sort of failing at hockey right now, I still like you.”

Shit. That might be even worse. Hopefully Sid will not know enough about feelings to comprehend any of this. He isn’t trying to make his captain go all bluescreen, but if that’s what gets them out of this pit of awkwardness then great.

He has the worst luck.

“You like me?” Sid asks.

Kris doesn’t exactly know what Sid means by the word “like” in this particular case. He isn’t even exactly sure what he meant. He stalls as long as he can stand to, but dragging the moment out is just magically making things somehow even more awkward, and ultimately however they are going to define like the only thing he can say is “Yes?”

The next minute is so awkward Kris can hardly breath. It physically hurts him. He’s somehow ultra aware of his body, every ache and bruise, his breathing, Sid’s breathing, the way his knee is almost touching Sid’s on the sofa, the faint hum of the refrigerator, more indistinct traffic passing by, he notices everything, fleetingly, waiting for Sid to respond.

Why doesn’t Kris understand Sid’s face? This is a tragedy. He wants to know, now, not when Sid finally says anything.

Only Sid doesn’t say anything really, he just leans back against the sofa and sighs.

Sighing? What does sighing mean? Kris has some ideas, but he can’t be sure that his knowledge is applicable to Sid because Sid is weird. Also awesome, but that isn’t really the point right now, except how it is, and Kris keeps on almost getting distracted by the awesome.

And while he isn’t saying anything Sid is biting his really nice lips. They look full and maybe a little bit chapped, and it’s sort of distracting. Kris tries to look away but sort of can’t. He totally used to be less awkward. So much. This is Sid’s fault. He’s been infected by Sid’s epic awkwardness. Fuck. Sid’s lips are really nice looking.

Kris kisses him. Briefly, barely, just for a second before pulling away fast, forcing himself to look anywhere except at Sid. Plans are terrible and do not work. He doesn’t even know what he was trying to do. Fuck.

“I, um, like you too?” Sid says. It’s hesitant, his voice is shaking, but it’s actual words articulating emotion, and Kris is too stunned to respond immediately.  
Sid looks nervous, and a bit lost, but he’s also smiling a little bit and Kris thinks that is kind of the best, so he smiles too. They just smile at each other for a while until Kris realises the implications of what Sid said and pulls him closer to kiss.

They make out for a while, messy and comfortable. Sid’s fingers tangle in his hair. They enjoying the closeness, the complete lack of space between them. It’s excellent, as it deepens, becoming more, as their hips rock together. Kris wants more. He pulls back enough to steal away Sid’s shirt and lose his own, revealing all this wonderful flesh. His hands don’t know what to reach for first. Only he doesn’t get much of a chance to ogle because Sid pulls him back into the kiss, only now they’re skin against skin. Kissing and grinding is great, but Kris still wants more. He starts sliding down Sid’s body, at first Sid seems confused, but then he gets it, and lifts his hips and lets Kris push down his jeans and boxers.

Sid’s fingers are still in his hair, and that’s exactly where Kris wants them, tugging in a way that’s not quite painful, but tethers him to reality. It expresses so much want, which changes to need, a shift Kris can feel in the way Sid’s grip gets a bit tighter as he loses track of his nice Canadian boy consideration.

This is really working for Kris, and Sid certainly be on the same page. Kris is confident in what he’s doing, with his mouth and hands, one pressed against Sid’s hip, the other wrapped around the base of his cock. Kris likes how giving head requires focusing intently on one thing while forgetting about the rest of the world. There’s Sid, the unselfconscious sounds he makes, his fingers in Kris’s hair, and basically nothing else. He knows it’s a similar story on the other end, the universe narrowing down to pleasure. This wasn’t really how Kris intended the afternoon to unfold, but it’s turned out to fit his plan great. Sid’s face looks stupider and makes less sense than ever when he comes, but the one thing that’s completely clear is that he is not thinking about Hockey.

This doesn’t solve things. There are four games left in the series, and they’ll have to win every one. They should probably talk about what’s happening here, with like, feelings, and words. Kris doesn’t really know what he wants, except to not have that conversation. Sid might die off awkward and that would be bad for the team. Plus he’d like to get off sooner than later.

From the way Sid looks at him now that he’s regaining his higher brain functions it doesn’t seem like that’s going to be an issue much longer, which is great. For now they can just bask in their bodies together, joined in the physical intimacy, and _not think about Hockey._

**Author's Note:**

> For my Fiance, who made me write this.


End file.
